


Huaxia

by i_got_these_words



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Disinhibition, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Imperial China, M/M, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 17:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18319913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_got_these_words/pseuds/i_got_these_words
Summary: "It was a sensation, searing but subdued, like it had only just skimmed the surface.A thought that was not his own, but had always been there.A belief that beckoned to him, but had already bound him."





	Huaxia

**Author's Note:**

> There is a brief glossary of terms in the End Notes.
> 
> Enjoy ~

He  _had_  to see him again.

He had tried to talk himself out of it – this foolish, impudent  _fuckery_ – but he was done.

Done fighting it. Done denying it. Done ignoring what had been haunting him night and day.

Those eyes.

Pale. Procellous. Predatory.

 _Eyes_ , for fuck’s sake.

When had he started taking note of people’s eyes, let alone those of a prisoner of the Imperial Court?

An alpha, at that.

_Shit._

The fever was getting to him. He was sure of it. His usual self did not indulge delusions or desires. And, yet, he had done nothing  _but_  indulge for the last two sundowns.

And he was done.

_Done._

It was time to put an end to this.

Untying the crisscrossed lace down the sides of tight-fitting sleeves, he shed layers of silk and linen. Stripped himself of studded clasp bracelets and sleek bangles. Pulled off the marquise-cut ring from his finger.

The discarded bijoux landed with a dissonance of dings and dismay on the rosewood dresser, the latter of which always, disturbingly, called forth the disappointment his mothers would express had they been privy to his not infrequent nocturnal activities.

But this was not about the taste of cheap liquor in a Laodicean tavern, nor about the tales a blind man and his oracle bones told a herd of peasants as they flocked around a fire burning forbidden spices, nor was it about his latest attempts to elude the fort guards at Gate Gui.

No. This was about the unrest and uproar that had rippled through the kingdom as word came of outsiders – soldiers or spies or assassins; the rumours were inconsistent – that had been caught trying to cross the border into Huaxia.

He slipped into a drab, light-weight tunic and soft leather boots – just as he had done that day. Only now, he was not escaping into the city to catch a glimpse of the strangers the Southern Imperial Army had detained, the glimpse that was responsible for how out of sorts he had felt since.

It had been a millennium since an alpha had set foot on Huaxian soil, even longer since one had lived as a citizen of the kingdom, and longer still since one had reigned as a sovereign ruler of Tianxia – before greed, arrogance and deceit had split the empire into three warring nations.

Thus, the crowd that scurried to the gates was as curious as he was. Aside from the military that patrolled the borders, today’s Huaxians had never seen an alpha in the flesh.

And what a sight they were.

The blind man’s stories had not done them justice, but how could they? How could mere words convey how bestial they were? How much taller they were than the tallest man in Huaxia? How much broader they were than the strongest soldier in the Empress’s Guard?

How black his hair was, shaved at the sides and the back of his head, spilling over his forehead with a submetallic lustre.

How sun-kissed his skin was, slick with sweat, rippling over the obvious strength in his shackled arms and shackled legs.

How grey his eyes were, hooded and shrouded in the shadow that his hair had cast, and then sparkling in the moonlight when his head had snapped up, looking for something, or someone, in the unsettled crowd.

He had wondered, at first, if he was simply reacting to the presence of the unfamiliar race he had heard so much about; the Grand Tutor had warned him of fatuous, ferocious predators who had flouted the sacred laws of Tianxia, whereas the blind man portrayed faithful protectors with supernatural strength and fervid passions.

But, as he had stood there, one of the hundreds of spectators in the square, he studied the other two alphas, one male and the other female, and felt nothing more than simple curiosity.

No, he had surmised, the other captives did not stir a similar sentiment.

He could not name the emotion that had overwhelmed him as soon as he had rested his gaze on the alpha with winter’s crystals in his eyes. He was not sure that it had a name.

He was not sure that it  _could_  be named.

It was a sensation, searing but subdued, like it had only just skimmed the surface. A thought that was not his own, but had always been there. A belief that beckoned to him, but had already bound him.

He grimaced as another wave of fever washed over him.

_Fuck._

Picking up the small, glass vial, he considered the opalescent liquid inside it.

He had tested his theory at breakfast that morning and then again at noon, just to be absolutely certain. But he had known before that. He had known as soon as the symptoms started what they signified: the start of his first heat.

As an apprentice of the Imperial Healer, he was familiar with its manifestation. But he was too young, having only turned eighteen on the first day of spring. His first heat was not expected til he was well into his second decennium of life. There were even some who did not experience it til they were in their third. The only exception was when a mating took place before the first heat; it induced its emergence. However, sexual relations before both parties’ Coming of Age were considered irresponsible and licentious.

And his Coming of Age ceremony was not for another _two_  solar years.

_Ah, tits of the Vermilion Goddess._

The fever had started last night and he had not been able to sleep. Instead, he had tossed and turned, troubled by flushes, an overly sensitive cock and a craving for  _yangmei_ , the wild berries that only grew on the treacherous mountain tops south of the Great River.

At breakfast, he had ensured he was never alone with his mothers. They had commented on the scent of heat, like he had feared they would, and wondered aloud which attending servant to extend felicitations to. Heat was a sign of fertility, good health and good fortune, and, as such, was revered by the people. It was considered good custom for the employer to permit time off, so that the one in heat may conjugate with their mate in gratitude to the Goddess.

Before his afternoon lesson, he had swiped a vial of  _yanshi_  from the Imperial Dispensary. Dabbed some over the scent glands behind his ears. And attended his session with an esteemed educator.

His condition had gone unnoticed.

 _Yanshi_ was a herbaceous blend used to mask the scent of one’s heat. Rarely used by civilians, it was a valued commodity amongst those in the military. Suppressants, on the other hand, were notorious for their side effects and only ever used in exceptional circumstances, mostly medical ones where pregnancy would threaten a frail mother’s life.

The small vial would only last him another day. Two, if he used it sparingly.

But,  _fuck that_ , he thought, as he uncorked the glass and tipped it over his wrist. Rubbed the  _yanshi_  into the sides of his neck. He could not very well infiltrate the fucking Imperial Prison of the Commandant of the Court smelling like he should be knees-up or balls-deep.

He would think about dealing with his heat after; he needed to deal with the alpha first.

The mere thought of his mothers discovering he had gone into heat before his twentieth spring, before he was even  _betrothed_ , made the pattering in his chest feel like the pounding of a thousand hooves. He could not remember a time before his mother and momma, but only because he had been a babe, young enough to still be nursed at the breast; the child of an exiled community living outside the fortress, on the periphery of the kingdom. The sect had been a peaceful one, but their conviction that the Vermilion Goddess prescribed that the three nations lived as one led them to repudiate Huaxian values and virtues, and precipitated their expulsion. When a tick-borne disease vastly reduced their numbers, the army delivered a handful of survivors, most of whom had been maimed by the illness and not lived long, after. He had been one of the survivors, orphaned, but by the Goddess’s mercy, healthy and hearty.

There was, he reminded himself, one other reason a heat emerged before its time.

But it was folklore, often used by the blind man to amuse his flock.

And, right now, he did not have time to be amused.

Wrapping the full-length cloak around his shoulders, he pulled the hood over his head. Fastened the dagger around his thigh. Muttered a quick prayer.

_Please, Goddess, don’t let me fuck this up._

 

※   ※   ※

 

The night air was mild, the skies clear, the breeze soothing and sweet with the essence of honeysuckle; the kind of spring night he might spend on the roof terrace overlooking the Grand Pool, listening to a woman breathe her devotion into a  _dizi_  as her lover frolicked in the shallow waters, the tinctures of nacarat in their Huaxian hair twinkling in the twilight.

Well, on the nights he was not sneaking off the palace grounds.

The journey took him an entire  _geng_.

It would not have been as long had he utilised a horse, but he could not risk it being traced back to the Imperial Stable if a situation arose where he would need to escape without it. That, and the horses did not really take to him.

Not surprisingly, the wall around the prison was heavily patrolled against a possible attempt by the enemy to rescue their own. However, a little burning bush oil provided enough of a distraction to allow him to slip past the guards with practised ease.

With his permanent limp, his right foot always landed a little heavier than his left. But the soft-soled boots curbed the echo of his footsteps on the uneven cobblestone ground of the courtyard. He kept to the shadows as two guards, wielding a  _qiang_  each, strode towards their counterparts stationed at the eastern gate.

Although the entrance would lead directly to the prisoners’ quarters, he could not use the same trick twice and risk rousing suspicion. He therefore took his chances and traversed the courtyard to the western gate, the argent glow from a waning moon providing enough light for him to see, but not enough to be seen.

The gate was unmanned.

Thank  _fuck_ , he thought, and quickly corrected himself as though he expected his momma to appear out of nowhere and admonish him for his blasphemy.  

_Thank you, Vermilion Goddess of the South. You look kindly upon me tonight._

Waiting in the umbra of a vacant guardhouse, he watched patrolmen rove past. Twice. And then again. Their timekeeping was as precise as the water clock that could be heard from the lotus pavilion of the Empress’s Gardens.

He drew his dagger as the men marched on by once again. As soon as they were twenty paces away, he slithered towards the rustic door of the western gate. Pulled off the flat, gilded pommel at the end of his dagger. Let the contents hidden within the hilt glide out.

With a quick look over his shoulder, he unwrapped the leather cloth to reveal the lockpicking kit he had acquired from a louche, loquacious merchant many summers ago.

Moonlight glinted off the surface of the lock and he recognised its design; he had last seen it when he had broken into the dispensary earlier on that day.

Unlocking the door with little difficulty, he opened it just enough so that his lithe figure could squeeze through. Once he had returned the dagger, and the kit within it, to the sheath strapped around his thigh, he waded his way through dimly-lit corridors, keeping close to the walls.

He was familiar with the layout of the prison; he spent a great deal of time here tending to and studying feral Huaxians with the Imperial Healer. Every year, a handful of men and women were inflicted, with clusters occurring during the peak of summer. It was a poorly understood phenomenon; it was not contagious, or hereditary, but nor was it curable. The prison’s infirmary wing was employed to contain the feral patients, to keep them from harming others and from harming themselves. Eventually, they succumbed to seizures, losing consciousness and never regaining it, their bodies withering away from a lack of hydration and nutrition. Alive but not living. Decaying but not deceased.

He stilled as a trio of guards trod towards him. Blew out the nearest mounted oil lamp. And flattened himself against the wall.

“I was always told to expect them to be hostile, you know? Deranged.” One of them revealed. “But she thanked me! Even wished me a good night.”

One of the other guards snickered. “No, she was  _offering_  you a good night, Lu Shun. There is a difference.”

Lu Shun spluttered. “Well –”

“Do not go putting ideas in his head, Ah Wen. You know how impressionable he is. He will end up getting himself discharged. Or worse.”

“I will  _not_ ,” Lu Shun replied indignantly. “I am soon-to-be mated, you know. And engaging an alpha that way would be nothing short of treason.”

“And, yet, treason has never looked so… dreamy,” Ah Wen replied wistfully. Then sniggered.

“You are fools, the both of you. You did not see their leader when he was brought in. ‘Deranged’ would be putting it mildly.”

“I heard he was ill,” Lu Shun quipped. “Is he not?”

“I heard he had gone feral,” Ah Wen interjected. “Can you imagine? A feral  _alpha?_  There will be casualties for sure.” 

“The tomb is containing him just fine,” the third guard insisted. “Now, I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m ready to retire for the night. Tomorrow will be another long day.”

They disappeared around the corner, their voices still carrying.

The  _tomb?_

Shit.

_Shitshitshit._

He struck the wall behind him with the side of his fist.

What the  _fuck,_  Goddess?

 

※   ※   ※

 

He did not know what time of the night it was when he attempted to bypass the two sets of sentries: one monitoring the stairwell, the other assigned to keep watch over the infirmary.

Ultimately, he resorted to climbing out one of the casements on the second floor and scaling the short distance up towards the railing around the infirmary windows. It should have been an uneventful climb; he had scaled higher and more perilous heights, but a sudden feverish spell meant he lost his footing and almost dropped to the ground.

That was not fun.

When the spell subsided, he righted himself before anyone patrolling the perimeter noticed him.

The infirmary windows were reinforced with security grills and, despite his narrow frame, he would never fit through. But that was not his intention.

From his vantage, he spotted the glassware that contained the teapills he had been experimenting with last week. He used the last of his burning bush oil and a strip of cloth shorn from the hem of his tunic to create a weighty fireball that landed in the midst of the glass colony. He waited til the smell of smoke and the sound of glass shattering had the two guards rushing into the infirmary.

It was more fanfare than actual fire, and the only real loss was two days’ worth of labour.

He would make up for it later.

With the sentry now suitably preoccupied, he slinked back into the building, sprinted up the stairs to the infirmary and swiped the bottle of _mazuiji_  from the tall cabinet in the clinic.

He worried that, with the commotion he had caused, the guards throughout the prison would be instructed to be extra vigilant. But his trip to the infirmary had been necessary, albeit based entirely on his presumption that the ‘leader’ the trio of off-duty guards had spoken of was the alpha he sought.

He was fucked if he had presumed wrong.

He could not afford any more setbacks or detours, he admitted, just as a surge of fever left him feeling faint. He had always heard that the symptoms of the first heat were the worst, and that, thereafter, the fevers and cravings grew less intense. In actual fact, it was mere conditioning and control that allowed the individual to curtail the effects. And only in the presence of one’s mate did that control slip free.

_Shit._

All he wanted to do was strip naked. Go for a swim. Eat some  _yangmei._

Touch himself.

He waited til his legs stopped feeling like they were going to give way under him, then proceeded towards the underground tomb.

Generally, the tomb was reserved for inmates requiring maximum security, which no Huaxian ever warranted. After the kingdom recovered from the Great War, the Imperial Prison was used to quarantine ferals and detain individuals awaiting sentencing by the Minister of Justice. Incarceration as a punishment was rare and short-lived, as crime amongst the locals was mostly of a non-violent nature and typically tended to involve the smuggling and trade of liquor and illicit substances.

 _What the shit am I going to do if he_ has  _gone feral?_

He winced as something in his chest clenched. There it was again. That emotion he could not name.

 _Fuck it._ He would just have to modify his plans, accommodate for the fact that the man would be a savage, senseless beast. How he was going to do that, he was not entirely certain of yet.

The lighting underground was softer, the temperature warmer, the stench of burning animal fat thicker.

He picked up the susurration of two distinct voices, muttering in hushed tones.

“They will be executed.”

“Surely not? Huaxia has not sentenced a man or woman to death since the Third Invasion.”

“Exactly.”

“But… Her Majesty would not sanction such a sentence. She is far too tender-hearted.”

“That tender heart beats for her consort and for the heir apparent. Not for the scum of Tianchao.”

He knew the guard was right; the Empress would not object to the Grand Judge’s verdict of the death penalty. The hearing in two days’ time was nothing more than a formality. An alpha among Huaxians was too dangerous, let alone three. Lifelong imprisonment did not eliminate the threat to the guards, nor did it eliminate the risk of an escape or a rescue. Execution would also serve as a warning to any others seeking to breach the kingdom’s borders.

Taking the bottle of  _mazuiji_ out of his pocket, he exhaled. Ignored the way his hands shook. Tried to recall the rhyme the Imperial Healer used when measuring out the hazardous herbal concoction.

_One to make him smile_

_Two to make him happy_

_Three to help him endure_

_But four to numb him for sure_

_Five only if he’s steep_

_And six to put him to sleep_

Except, he had never been taught how to use it on two people simultaneously. He was warned time and again of its risks; the noxious fumes of the sedative blend, even in moderate doses, could paralyse a man’s breathing. Conflicted, he wondered if there was any other way to get past the guards. He would never, willingly or wilfully, harm his own.

He was considering going back to the infirmary to look up the unorthodox dosing of  _mazuiji_  when one of the guards groaned.

“I need a piss.”

“Another? It must be all that tea you’ve been drinking.”

“It is the only thing that keeps me awake.”

_Clink. Clatter. Clang._

“Hold on to these while I’m gone.”

He held his breath as a guardswoman came clambering around the bend. Watched her take the stairs and then slip into the darkness.

This was it. He was not going to get another chance.

Swiftly, he wrapped the end of his cloak around the lower half of his face. Ripped off another strip of his tunic. Unscrewed the top off the bottle.

After he used the cap to measure out one-sixth of a  _shao_ , he soaked the piece of ragged cloth into it, careful that his fingers did not come into direct contact with the volatile liquid. Once the cap was secured back in place and the bottle returned to his pocket, he edged towards the bend, laid eyes on the young guard seated in front of a wooden door. Flinging the wet cloth, he watched it land just behind the man’s feet.

At this strength, the  _mazuiji_ would take effect within mere moments. And it would last long enough for him to complete his task.

The guard’s head nodded once. Twice. And then all was silent save for the muted snores of a quiescent man.

With a new sense of urgency, likely borne from how close he was to achieving his objective, he stepped towards the guardsman and searched him. Brass keys finally in hand, he had not noticed that the wrap around his face had come undone. He was unsure how much of the noxious fumes he had inhaled, but it could not have been significant; he did not feel sleepy, only slightly… silly.

_Ah, feathered tits of the winged Goddess._

 

※   ※   ※

 

He grunted as his back hit the bars, his hands scrambling for purchase; but the colossal chest before him was unclothed, bare – beautifully, callously bare.

“Do not presume to tempt me, omega.” The ragged growl – defiant like a crash of waves and drawling like the cascade of a waterfall – sent a chill down his spine, and a tingle down to his balls. The rough hands on the back of his thighs squeezed. “Nothing good will come of it.”

He was off the ground, his legs straddling a tapered waist, his groin pressed up against a taut torso. He was fairly confident that the scalding heat poking his left ass cheek was hard cock.

“They send a whore,” the alpha continued. “But if it is state secrets your people are after, all they need do is  _ask_  me.”

What.

The.

_Fuck._

 

※   ※   ※

 

_What was with the shitty lighting? Someone needed to have a word with whoever oversaw lumination in the Imperial Prison. He was prepared to be that someone; it was wholly distasteful how they still used animal fat in oil lamps, and utterly unsafe how he could not even see his own hand in front of his –_

_Oh._

_His hood was too low down._

_Well._

_He should probably speak to whoever designed the cloak; the hood was grossly too large for his head and the grim cloth too harsh against his skin._

_Wait, had he seen that wall before?_

_He whirled around. And then again._

_Shit._

_Which way was in?_

_And which way was out? Because he_ would  _need to get out at some point. His mothers would miss him. And, if he was absent for another reading session, the Grand Tutor would see that his music privileges were suspended._

_It seemed like an eternity since he had come through the wooden door and –_

_Just_ where  _had he seen that wall before? It was not as brick-esque as the wall opposite, its masonry not as well-made._

_“Worry not, my friend.” He murmured to it, his fingers caressing the wet stone. “The Goddess loves us all equally and unequal… Equival? Uneq–”_

_“Unequivocally?” Came a deep voice._

_He swivelled around._

_But there was only more wall._

_He looked down the dismal passageway, and… there._

_The alpha stood behind ceiling-to-floor length bars, arms crossed, head tilted. He was without a shirt, his black pants loose around his thighs and tight around his calves._

_“Whoever made my cloak must have tailored your pants. My commiserations.”_

_Cocking a brow, the alpha stood in sombre silence._

_He ambled towards the cell. Stuck his hand between two bars. “Guan Shan of the House of Mo.”_

_Scowling now, the larger man’s eyes narrowed._

_“You may kiss it, if you like. But no excess spit. I hate that shit.”_

 

※   ※   ※

 

Blinking, Guan Shan stared at the face before him: all hard angles and harsh lines, save for the soft curve of a sinful mouth. Those lips pressed into a thin line as the hands around his thighs tightened their hold. He felt the alpha tremble a little.

Why – and  _how_ – had they got so close?

So close that the smell of him – lush pastures under a spring shower; the sweet, sticky juices of freshly-plucked Hua Niu apples; outdoor sex on wet, crisp grass – made Guan Shan feel all sorts of things, things that he should not feel for an enemy of the kingdom.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” he hissed, hoping that some distance would clear his head.

The alpha’s eyes widened, the line of his mouth slackening. But the look of surprise was swiftly schooled back into a sneer.

“ _You_  climbed  _me_ , omega.”

_Shit._

What else had he done?

“Unhand me,” Guan Shan blustered. “Right this –”

He saw the exact moment a vitriolic look passed in those pale eyes. And, so, when the alpha stepped back and released his grip, Guan Shan threw his arms around a thick neck and hooked his ankles around an impossibly broad back, avoiding the uncomfortable collision of his ass against cold stone ground.

“You are doing it again,” the infuriating man ranted, throwing his hands up. “ _Climbing me_.”

“Fucker,” Guan Shan spat. “You tried to drop me!”

“I was obliging you!”

Bristling, Guan Shan glowered but refused to dignify that response with one of his own.

With much grace, but little dignity, he slowly unwrapped his limbs and scaled down the tower of hard planes, making sure he was extra rough when he passed by the alpha’s erect cock. He had expected a grunt, or an execration, but not a sigh laced with pain.

And, it seemed, the alpha had not expected it either.

They both stared at each other for a beat, before the taller man’s face grew rubescent and he looked away.

“Make no mistake, omega. You do not arouse me,” he said gruffly.

The statement should not have felt as caustic as it did. He could not explain it, but he wanted the alpha to find him desirable. Goddess only knew how desirable Guan Shan found him, vexing streak and all.

Something must have shown on his face, because the alpha furrowed his brows. Turned away. Started to pace.

“I am not saying you are not –” an audible swallow “– beautiful. You are. Exquisitely so.”

Something fluttered inside Guan Shan’s chest.

“You would not be good at your trade if you were not.”

What?

“My trade?” Guan Shan asked, confused.

The pacing came to a hesitant halt. “A whore of the Imperial Court.”

“The court does not –” Guan Shan stopped himself.

“You must have had quite the training. Your elocution is that of a nobleman.”

“Being a whore does not preclude one of their noble status.”

The alpha huffed a laugh. “No, I suppose in Huaxia it does not.”

“Why did you cross the border?” Guan Shan asked.

“I will not bed you, omega. Cease your probing. And your pouting.”

“I am  _not_  –”

Clenching his fists, the alpha cut in. “My heart belongs to another.” He closed his eyes. Inhaled. Unclenched his fists. “I ask that you, please, respect that. I would never betray my mate, but you are making me work much,  _much_ , harder for my fidelity.”

The flutter in Guan Shan’s chest was now like an axe, hacking away at him.

“You have a mate,” he heard himself croak.

_How can he be mated? And why, Goddess, does it feel like betrayal?_

The impatience in the alpha’s tone was unmistakable. “Surely you have somewhere else to be. Someone else’s bed to warm. Your own mate, perhaps?”

Guan Shan worried his lower lip. “I… am not mated.”

Why were his eyes stinging?

“A spitfire like you, with all that splendour?”

Blinking rapidly to stem the tears he refused to fucking let loose, Guan Shan cleared his throat. “I cannot be mated before my twentieth spring.”

“Ah,” the alpha uttered. “The Huaxians and their peculiar habits.”

“What is peculiar about that?”

“It is unnatural,” he shrugged. “Alphas do not adhere to such man-made prescriptions.” He studied Guan Shan with a frown. “Wait… If you are not even of age yet, how are you in such a profession?”

The ripple of fever was subtle, at first, and he swayed with it; but then it spread like wildfire, and he went down like blazing timber.

 

※   ※   ※

 

_The brass key jingled in the lock._

_“What are doing?” The alpha asked, sounding concerned, his gaze flitting up and down the passageway._

_Puffing an exasperated breath, Guan Shan took the key out. Tried another. “What does it look like? I am getting you out.”_

_“I do not_ need _getting out.”_

_The lock clicked and the cell gate screeched open. “Fuck you then. I’m coming in.”_

_He strolled in, taking in the bare cell with its minimal contents: the shackles on the ground, the earthenware bowl and platter, the wooden block that provided many a sleepless prisoner with many a sleepless night._

_“You cannot be in here, omega.” The alpha insisted, widening his stance and preventing Guan Shan from entering further._

_“You do not sound feral.” Guan Shan squinted at him._

_“What?”_

_“The prison guards wondered if you had gone feral. It is why they confined you to the tomb.”_

_“Typical.” A short laugh. “It has been so long since your people have seen an alpha in rut they think me possessed.”_

_“What is a rut?” Guan Shan asked, crinkling his nose whilst simultaneously stepping into the alpha’s personal space. “It sounds sexual.”_

_Regarding him with a cool stare, the alpha replied, “I believe your kind call it heat.”_

_“You’re in heat?”_

_“It is tailing off,” he muttered. “Well. It was.”_

_Guan Shan breathed him in – earthy with an edge – and smiled._

_The alpha’s face hardened. “Enough, omega. Leave.”_

_“I cannot leave.” Guan Shan could feel the banked fire within him building and building and building. “I just got here.”_

 

※   ※   ※

 

When he came to, a dazzle of diamond dust in a pair of eyes glinted at him.

“Shit,” the alpha breathed, sounding relieved. “You scared me.”

“ _I_  scared  _you_?” Guan Shan chided, a smile curling one corner of his mouth. He ignored the way the alpha dabbed a cool, damp cloth down his cheek. And he most certainly ignored how he was sprawled in the other man’s lap, his cloak balled into a pillow, his shorn tunic riding up his pale thighs.

“I thought I might have to call for the guards.” The alpha considered him for a quiet moment. Thumbed the gold stud in Guan Shan’s ear; the one with the Imperial Emblem engraved in it. “You’re not a whore, are you?”

“No.”  _Fuck_ , he hated how small his voice sounded.“I never claimed to be.”

“Nor did you see fit to correct me.” Jaw tense, the alpha paused in his ministrations. “I suppose it is true that spies come in all sorts.”

Briskly, Guan Shan sat up. Braced himself as his surroundings spun. “I am not here to spy on you.”

“No?”

“I,” he moistened his lips. He could not be entirely honest, not now that he knew the alpha was already mated. “I came to save you.”

Holding his gaze, the larger man lowered his brows. “And what, omega, do you presume to save me from?”

Incredulous, Guan Shan exclaimed, “Execution, of course.”

“The Empress will not sanction it. Not after she hears my proposal.”

“You sound so sure,” Guan Shan said, watching as the alpha immersed the cloth in the bowl of water.

“There are no children in Tianchao.” The words were intoned in a sombre timbre.

“How not?”

“The alphas are not as fertile as your people. A woman may bear one child in her lifetime, if the White God wills it. But, for the last few lunar years, He has not.” A measured sigh. “We have withstood it thus far because our lifespans are long; and the Crown has his omega concubines to help him endure it. As of late, however, even their numbers have dwindled.”

A sense of forebode took hold of Guan Shan. “What…”

“The Crown intends to conquer Huaxia, to claim both its land and its inhabitants.”

 _“The fuck?”_ He was not sure which emotion reigned – rage, revulsion or terror.

Taking Guan Shan’s trembling fists into his own hands, the alpha pulled Guan Shan back into his lap. “Our numbers are too few, however, to even entertain the thought of victory.”

“But?”

“But… the Black Army of the North.”

“Shenzhou? The betas would  _do_  that, fight with the alphas?  _What the fuck for?_ ” Guan Shan could feel the fury simmering just under his skin and it threatened to spill over. The mere thought of the alpha brutes subjecting his people to enslavement,  _to their barbarity_ , made his vision darken.

“The betas are shrewd creatures with no concept of loyalty; however, their armed forces and military prowess are second to none. If the Crown makes a proposition, and he will, the betas will fight for the sake of fighting. Unless...” A slow exhalation. “Unless the Empress makes a proposition of her own and the betas of Shenzhou, instead, ally with Huaxia.”

“Why would they side with us instead?”

A half shrug. “They may not. But I am familiar with their most formidable warlord. He has defected once before. He also… owes me a personal favour.”

It was then that Guan Shan realised how his side was pressed up against the alpha’s chest, how one large palm rubbed slow circles into the small of his back, and another large hand rested on his thigh, playing with the loose threads of his shredded tunic.

“I ask you once more, alpha of Tianchao,” Guan Shan whispered. “Why did you cross the border?”

 

※   ※   ※

 

_Every nerve in his body ignited like a sparkling bamboo shoot, the ones that had been outlawed in Huaxia and could now only be acquired from the most contumacious of alchemists._

_Sizzling, hot, horny bamboo shoots._

_“You make me feel…” Guan Shan traced a path from the defined dip above the alpha’s mouth, over the peak of an upper lip – pink, soft, sumptuous – and down a strong chin. “Ravenous.”_

_Jaw muscles bunching, the alpha pinned Guan Shan with a look; and it was as primal as it was perverse. “Ravenous is a rutting alpha with their mate.”_

_“Show me.” Guan Shan asked, his voice thick with need, his finger sweeping the hollow of the alpha’s throat._

_Stilling Guan Shan’s hand and removing it from his person, the alpha pursed his lips. “It cannot be shown, omega. It can only be lived.”_

 

※   ※   ※

 

“All good men have been imprisoned.” There was a faraway look in the alpha’s eyes.

“Why?” Guan Shan asked. “And for what?”

“For speaking against the Crown’s tyranny.”

“And you? Did you flee to escape the same fate?”

“I did not flee my kingdom, nor do I intend to forsake it.” A solemn silence. “I am the second son of the King of Tianchao.”

Guan Shan stared at the man before him, his mouth slightly agape. “ _Shit.”_

“I do not wish my identity to be made public before I have conferred with the Empress.”

But Guan Shan was not listening. “We confined the Prince of Tianchao to the fucking tomb.  _Fuck._ ”

A throaty chuckle. “I will only answer to He Tian. I reject the King as much as I reject my own royal title.”

“I don’t understand.”

He Tian’s shoulders slumped as a pained expression settled on his features. “The crown does not belong to a He. My father ascended the throne after the late King Xun, to whom he was a trusted companion and advisor, went feral.”

Stunned, Guan Shan said, “No one has ever spoken of a royal who has gone feral.”

“No,” He Tian admitted. “The people were told he had died peacefully and unexpectedly in his sleep. The truth is that he lives a slow death, locked in the Tower of Tianchao, and locked in the prison of his mind, and has done so for the last decennium.”

“And his descendants know nothing of it?”

“The Queen was of poor health and, before her passing, did not bear any children. And King Xun did not lie with the concubines.” When He Tian looked down at Guan Shan, there was a glimmer in his eyes that had not been there a moment ago. “But he confessed to having a paramour before his succession to the crown.”

“So his bloodline continues?” Guan Shan guessed.

“His lover was a nomad. He knew nothing of the child he had sired, not even that it existed.”

Shaking his head, perplexed, Guan Shan held up a hand. “How do you know all this?”

He Tian smirked, the glimmer in his eyes now gleaming. “The Oracle, of course. Perhaps you came across her.”

Guan Shan frowned, giving He Tian a funny look.

“She crossed the border with me. Zhan Zi Qian is the Royal Oracle, or was, until she spoke of a nomad and an heir apparent. Then she was accused of high treason, stripped of her title, and locked in a cell, smaller and far more sordid than this one.”

“And the third alpha, who is he?”

“Her brother, Zhan Zheng Xi. He thinks I have enlisted him for his gift with the warhorses.” A casual shrug. “He is gifted, of that there is no doubt. But it is more his gift with a certain generalissimo that I am interested in.”

“The beta warlord that you spoke of?”

“Yes, but you mustn’t tell Zheng Xi that,” He Tian replied with a wink.

Despite the sobering topic and their serious tones, Guan Shan could not help the frisson of excitement the flirtatious wink sent through him.

Wait.

Was it flirtatious? Or was He Tian simply being friendly?

_Ah, tits._

“If your father knows of this threat – an heir – would he not seek them out? Have them… eliminated?”

“Of course he would,” He Tian snarled. “But the Oracle claimed to not know their whereabouts.”

A heavy silence fell upon them.

“She knows, doesn’t she?” Guan Shan surmised, as the various pieces of the story started to fit together. The picture was far from pretty.

“Yes.”

“The heir is here. In Huaxia.”

He Tian was quiet.

“The heir is an omega.”

 

※   ※   ※

 

_His back was against a cold, hard wall; but he would much rather it be against something warm and hard._

_Tugging at his arms, Guan Shan looked up at the alpha. The top of his head barely reached the taller man’s shoulders. Those wide, taut shoulders._

_“Let go,” Guan Shan whined, tugging again._

_But the other man only glowered, maintaining his one-hand grip around Guan Shan’s wrists._

_“Please?” There was something indecent about being pinned against the wall, desperate and defenceless, his captor deliciously half nude. And decidedly pissed off._

_“You will not tell me who you are, or what you want,” the alpha bit out. Without any preamble, he brushed his free hand down Guan Shan’s chest._

_“What –” Then up his left side. And down his right. “What are you –” The strokes were fleeting, perfunctory, but the heat from the alpha’s hand was fierce and blistering. He whimpered as he felt the hand slide up his bare thigh, all the way up, til it disappeared under his tunic. His cock throbbed with a carnal need. “Goddess, don’t let him stop.”_

_“I knew it.”_

_And, all at once, he was no longer anchored to the wall; his wrists, although still smarting, were no longer tethered; and the alpha’s touch no longer warmed him._

_Inspecting the dagger this way and that, the alpha remarked, “What do you expect to accomplish with this? It is so small.”_

_“But severe,” Guan Shan added. “Like its owner.”_

 

※   ※   ※

 

“There is no way Tianchao would recognise an omega sovereign,” Guan Shan contested. “I had feared that the only flaw in your plan was that the child may be deemed an illegitimate heir – but an  _omega?_  I took you for a visionary, but you are clearly quixotic.”

Pulling away from He Tian, Guan Shan stood up. Walked towards the cell bars. Ran a tremulous hand down his face.

“Tell me your entire plan, the fate of my people, is not hinged on this one piece.” He dismissed the way his voice quivered at the end. Denied how hollow he felt without He Tian’s arms around him.

An incursion by vile and vicious alphas, backed by the Black Army, would decimate Huaxia. Of that, he was certain. The war could not be prevented by parading an omega puppet heir in front of prickly alphas.

_Goddess of the South, please, this can’t be it._

“There has to be another way,” he murmured. Turning around, expecting to see He Tian still sitting on the ground, he startled as he realised the alpha was standing right behind him.

“Omega –”

“Tianchao will not be ruled by anyone other than an alpha,” Guan Shan stressed.

With a small, somewhat sad, smile on his face, He Tian ran his fingers through Guan Shan’s short strands. “You forget that it was an alpha who sired this child.”

Trying not to enjoy the way He Tian’s hand felt in his hair, Guan Shan stepped back. “That does not change the fact that –”

“And, yet, there was once a time when alphas  _were_ led by an omega. A time before the people allowed their differences to divide them. When we were not three kingdoms but a single empire.”

“That was an era ago,” Guan Shan retorted.  _“History.”_

“It is  _our_  history,” He Tian said, his voice so low it was almost soothing. “And it is high time we looked to it.”

 

※   ※   ※

 

_Guan Shan pushed up onto his toes. Wound his arms around an immense neck. Whispered against inviting lips._

_“I am yours, alpha. I have_ always _been yours.”_

 

※   ※   ※

 

 _Fucking_ mazuiji, Guan Shan thought, cringing as the murky gaps in his memory assumed details and defined margins.  _FuckfuckfuckFUCK._

He could feel his face heating up.

“What’s wrong?” He Tian asked, a concerned look in his eyes.

“I – uh,” Guan Shan stuttered. Broke out in a burst of nervous laughter. And quickly slapped a hand over his mouth as the laughter threatened to disintegrate into a dry sob.

The concerned look deepened as He Tian examined him. “Do you feel unwell again?”

Before he could formulate a response, He Tian took hold of him, and helped him down to the stone ground.

“You needn’t worry, I am not going to faint again.” Guan Shan said, wondering if it was possible to pass out from sheer mortification. “At least, I think not.”

“Does this happen often?”

_Do I often shamelessly offer myself to a man I have never met before?_

As the burning in his cheeks intensified, Guan Shan wet his lips. “Earlier. I did not… mean to… proposition you.” He looked away from He Tian’s bewildered expression. “In such a manner. Or in any manner, in fact. It was unbecoming. And entirely inappropriate. I cannot apologise enough.” The alpha blinked at him. “I was under the influence of a, uh, herbal medicament that can… well, cause one to become, somewhat, disinhibited.”

He Tian narrowed his eyes. “And, what, you were taking this aphrodisiac for a recreational purpose?”

“No. My being subjected to it was wholly unintentional. And it was  _not_  an aphrodisiac.”

“I see.” He Tian’s face split into a grin, one that was enthralling and exasperating all at once. “You were very… insistent.”

“Yes.” Guan Shan coughed. “Well.”

“And tactile.”

“Please, Goddess, make him stop.” Guan Shan hung his head.  _And, please, see to it that the ground swallows me whole._

Chuckling, He Tian nudged Guan Shan’s chin back up. Searched his eyes for a beat. Sighed.

“What is it?” Guan Shan asked.

“A nation of alphas alone is not sustainable. We will perish.” He Tian set his jaw. “The people of Tianchao  _have_ to recognise an omega offspring of King Xun. If anything, it is a clear sign from the White God of the West that we should welcome omegas, and betas alike, back into our kingdom.”

Guan Shan shook his head, wishing that he shared at least a sliver of He Tian’s optimism. “And when they reject the omega?”

“If the heir is not found, even with the help of the Oracle, or if they are unsuitable to ascend to the throne due to an ailment of the mind or the body or such, then,” He Tian let out a sharp breath. “Fuck. Huaxia goes to war.”

Guan Shan felt something take hold of his gut and  _twist._

“If that is what it comes to, and I pray that it does not, our only chance of overthrowing my father is Generalissimo Jian and his hellhounds fighting alongside your imperial army.”

“Otherwise, it all goes to shit.” Guan Shan gulped. “We all go to shit.”

A warm hand moved up his forearm and down again in comforting strokes; and his flesh pebbled beneath its touch.

“Have faith, omega of Huaxia,” He Tian said with a soft smile, the fractals of winter in his eyes aswirl. “So, you see, you needn’t have tried rescuing me. The Empress will not have me executed.”

“No, she will not.”

“Although why you would take the risk escapes me, still.” He tilted his head. “You do not even know me.”

_Because you are mine._

_Why can’t you feel it?_

_And_ why _have you taken a mate when you have me?_

“You do not look so good,” He Tian observed, pulling the primitive bowl towards them and plucking out the soaked cloth.

“No. I’m fine,” Guan Shan mumbled.

He stood up, knocking the bowl of water over in his haste and tripping.

“Careful.” Already on his feet, He Tian caught him, encircling an arm around Guan Shan’s waist to steady him. He used his other hand to cup Guan Shan’s face. “Something is wrong. What is it?”

Swallowing back the purr that almost escaped his lips when He Tian’s wet fingers caressed the sensitive skin behind his ear, Guan Shan closed his eyes. “I have to go.”

“Who are you, omega?” He Tian’s brows drew together. “You carry the fragrance of  _chen xiang_  in your hair and on your clothes. You speak like a noble. And you wear the Empress’s seal in your ear.”

Guan Shan felt the shift in the air before he smelled it.

His heat.

_Fuck._

He watched as confusion then clarity then chaos contorted Tian’s features.

“What is that?” He Tian rasped, scanning Guan Shan’s face.

“You must have wiped my scent mask off,” Guan Shan explained, as the air continued to thicken. At first, he only sensed his own heat, but then a second scent mingled in, and it was utterly  _sublime._  He felt his cock start to swell; and the tapping behind his breastbone pick up, until it was like the beating of a million wings.

“Is that you?” He Tian asked, his voice deeper, hoarser, than it had been. “ _Fuck._ ”

He promptly let go of Guan Shan. Covered his nose and mouth with an unsteady hand. Turned his head away.

And Guan Shan heard something inside his chest crack.

“I’m sorry,” came He Tian’s muffled voice. “I thought my rut had ended.”

Gritting his teeth, Guan Shan clenched his fists. “Are you apologising because my heat arouses you when it shouldn’t? Or because you want me when you shouldn’t?”

Slowly, He Tian shifted to look at him;  Guan Shan wondered whether that was remorse in his eyes, or pity. And the crack Guan Shan had felt before was nothing like the way his temper snapped just then.

“I didn’t _ask_  for this!” His voice was loud and shrill and he barely recognised it. “I didn’t ask to be bound to you!”

“ _What?_ ”

Turning on his heel, Guan Shan rushed out of the cell and towards the wooden door that would lead him out of the tomb. He swiped angrily at his damp eyes, cursing them and cursing his fate and cursing every alpha that had ever walked the earth. He had only just realised that he had left his cloak and dagger behind, and the brass keys in the lock, when a powerful grip around his upper arm swung him around.

“The fuck –” All he heard was a mumbled “ _'bound'_  he says” before He Tian buried a nose in the crook of Guan Shan’s neck. And inhaled. “What are you –”

“Shut up.” He Tian’s voice was a hiss, his breath a damp whisper against Guan Shan’s skin.

And, so, he stilled and stayed silent as He Tian nuzzled him. Sniffed him. But when he felt a searing tongue lick the skin over his scent glands, Guan Shan’s composure broke; he shuddered and let out a moan.

He Tian moaned in turn. And nuzzled some more.

When he finally pulled back, the grey of his eyes lost to black and his face flushed, He Tian growled. “How long did you intend to keep this from me?” His words were clipped and biting.

“I did not –”

“You were there, in the crowd. The night the soldiers brought us in.”

Guan Shan sucked in a breath. “How did you know?”

“I felt you, of course. Fuck.” He Tian glared at him. “You came all the way to my cell and planned to leave without telling me. You even went so far as to mask your scent so I could not recognise you.”

“No,” Guan Shan spat. “I masked my heat so I could get past the guards. Yet, I come all the way to the tomb only to be told to fuck off, you already have a mate.”

“You fool.” Cradling the back of Guan Shan’s head, He Tian planted a kiss on Guan Shan’s forehead. “I was speaking of you.”

_Ah, Goddess of the South, thank fuck._

He rested his face against the contours of He Tian’s chest. “I did not believe it at first. All these thoughts and sentiments. I could not explain why I was so vehemently and viscerally drawn to a stranger.” His voice dropped lower. “But then my first heat emerged.”

“Trigged by the soulbond.” A serene smile on sensuous lips. “And that is what you felt, the Gods-ordained pull between us. It cannot be described. Or put into words.” Those lips drew closer til they hovered just over Guan Shan’s. “Or broken.”

“My tutor told me it was all a myth.”

“Your tutor is not alone. A soulbond is incredibly rare; it is not surprising the people equate it to a fantasy or fairy tale.”

Guan Shan lost himself in the ice crystals in He Tian’s eyes. “Kiss me.”

Tightening his arms around Guan Shan, He Tian groaned. “If I kiss you, I am not sure that I will be able to stop; and I worry I may not honour your Huaxian Coming of Age traditions.”

“I thought your kind did not endorse man-made prescriptions.”

“No,” He Tian nudged Guan Shan’s nose with his own. “But I intend to seek your guardian’s approval and I suspect that that may be made difficult if I do not at least appear to respect the peculiar nuances of your mating rituals.”

“You talked at length but all I heard was ‘mating’.” Guan Shan felt He Tian’s laughter rumble through his chest. “If you are going to make me wait two solar years before we mate, the least you could fucking do is kiss me in the meantime.”

Raising his eyebrows, He Tian smirked. “I sense a trend in this partnership where I am often obliging you.”

“Yes.” Guan Shan jutted his chin. Peered up at He Tian. “I remember you trying to drop me the last time that happened.”

Grabbing Guan Shan by the waist, He Tian hoisted him up. Set his legs so that he was straddling He Tian’s torso. “Your memory is lapsing. It must be those aphrodisiacal medicaments you are so fond of.”

“It was  _not_  an aph–”

But the rest of that refutation was lost in the collision of lips.

 _Goddess._  He had never kissed or been kissed before. And the way their mouths met and parted and met again made it hard to think of  _anything_  but the heat of He Tian’s mouth, the heat of his hard cock against Guan Shan’s belly, and the heat of his hands as he palmed Guan Shan’s buttocks.

He Tian alternated between sucking on his upper lip and nipping on his lower; and the tingling sensation that the action spurred made Guan Shan’s balls tighten. When He Tian slipped his hands under the tunic to squeeze Guan Shan’s ass around cloth so scant it might as well have not been there, Guan Shan caught Tian’s lip between his teeth and bit down. The growl that he felt reverberate in He Tian’s chest made his cock twitch.

“Do that again,” Guan Shan gasped.

Obliging as ever, He Tian massaged the globes of his ass and kissed him. Hard. And growled into his mouth.

Guan Shan mewled as the heat in his groin coiled. He rocked against He Tian, his cock revelling in the contact and friction. He rocked again.

“ _Stop_ ,” He Tian demanded, and it was a breathy, beautiful whimper.

“Why are we not naked yet?”

This time, when He Tian growled it was a gnar that thundered through gnashed canines. With one arm still supporting Guan Shan’s weight, He Tian grabbed the collar of the tunic with his free hand.  And used his teeth to rip the fabric down the middle.

The torn garment slipped from Guan Shan’s shoulders and down his back, gathering in the crook of his elbows and pooling around his thighs. He shuddered as the cool air swept over his bare skin; and shuddered again when He Tian raked his nakedness with rapacious regard.

“This was a mistake,” He Tian rasped, shaking his head.

“What?” A flutter of fear. A touch of shame. Did He Tian not find his body pleasing to the eye?

“Cover yourself up.” He Tian’s voice was gruff as he focused on something over Guan Shan’s head, his breathing loud and laboured. “Your guardian will have me castrated if I mate you now.”

Anger replaced the traces of fear and shame. “With  _what_ , exactly?” Scowling, Guan Shan pushed at He Tian’s chest. “You saw to it that my only clothing was wrecked beyond repair.”

Clamping his eyes shut, He Tian breathed out through his mouth. “Omega…”

“My  _name_  is Mo Guan Shan.”

“You asked to be naked.  _I obliged_.”

“By gutting my tunic!”

“Cover. Up.” He Tian bit out.

“Fuck you,” Guan Shan snarled.

“The  _very_ thing I am trying to avoid –”

And then Guan Shan was kissing him again. Before, it was tender and teasing, light touches and loving. Now, it was stinging and savage, singes painful and prickling.

Pulling at Guan Shan’s hair and angling his head, He Tian plunged his tongue into Guan Shan’s mouth. Guan Shan bit at it; and dug his blunt-edged fingernails into He Tian’s shoulders when He Tian bit his tongue back in turn.

Guan Shan tasted salt and iron, smelled green pastures and fresh rain. And his cock loved it.

They carried on like that – all fire and claws and thunder – until their need to breathe overwhelmed their need to bruise and bite.

Lips sore, tongue twinging and ass cheeks smarting, Guan Shan glared at He Tian, although it was somewhat undone by his attempts to catch his breath.

“You are still naked, Mo Guan Shan.”

But Guan Shan could not take the ire in He Tian’s tone seriously when He Tian looked as he did – mouth swollen, hair mussed, eyes dark with lust.

“And I think that you underestimate your will, He Tian. You have yet to fuck me.”

He Tian shook his head. “The thought of your guardian denying me –”

“But our soulbond?” Guan Shan interjected with anxious haste.

“I believe it a sign from the Gods, this bond between an alpha of Tianchao and an omega of Huaxia. But not everyone will think that.”

Something cold and chilling settled in Guan Shan’s core; he knew it was true. Alphas were reviled and feared by his people. But surely his own mothers would see that –

“Worry not, omega.” He Tian pressed a soft kiss to Guan Shan’s temple. “I will mark you when the time comes.”

_Mark?_

“And when you are ready, I will knot you.”

_Knot me?_

“What the fuck is a –” Guan Shan barely had the words out of his mouth when He Tian untangled them, threw Guan Shan behind him, and shielded him from the deluge of prison guards that had barged through the wooden door.

_Shitshitshit._

A litany of startled and trepidatious “The Prince?” and “Your Highness!” ricocheted off the walls.

Guan Shan watched as He Tian’s body tensed. “How do they know already?”

“Uh,” Guan Shan hesitated. “Well.”

“Alpha,” the booming voice of a guard assuming charge echoed through the passageway. “You will step away from the Crown Prince and surrender yourself, or the wrath of the Vermillion Goddess of the South and Her Majesty’s Imperial Guard will be upon you.”

He Tian looked over his shoulder at Guan Shan, his eyes wide – disbelieving.

And most distinctly pissed off.

_Ah, tits._

**Author's Note:**

> ※※※ Glossary of Terms ※※※
> 
>  _Chen xiang:_ Agarwood; Chinese oud; a rare and highly sought-after fragrance.
> 
>  _Dizi:_ Bamboo flute.
> 
>  _Geng:_ A time signal, indicated by a drum sounded in designated towers or gongs struck by night watchmen. The first geng comes at sundown and is followed by a subsequent geng every one-tenth of the night; each geng denotes the passage of 2.4 hours.
> 
>  _Mazuiji:_ Anaesthetic.
> 
>  _Qiang:_ Spear.
> 
>  _Shao:_ A unit of volume used in ancient China.
> 
>  _Yangmei:_ A crimson subtropical fruit; also known as the Chinese bayberry.
> 
>  _Yanshi:_ Mask; dissimulation; cover-up.
> 
>  _Huaxia; Tianchao; Tianxia; Shenzhou:_ Names and terms used historically to refer to geographical regions, concepts or nations in ancient China.
> 
>  
> 
> ※※※ Author's Note ※※※
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this work, or at least some aspects of it. If so, please consider dropping me a kudos or leaving me a comment below (or even a favourite quote/one-liner; no preface necessary)!
> 
> I didn't take myself seriously when I wrote this and those of you familiar with the various themes used in this work will see that I have taken many, many liberties. I apologise to any and all history nerds; mistakes in this fic are the product of my own ineptitude (also, the wiki pages were cray detailed and beyond my primitive brain). Please feel free to slay me constructively.
> 
> I have never attempted an Omegaverse AU before and, although I had a blast with the world building, I also felt way out of my depth lol. I was definitely trying for a non-traditional A/B/O whilst still attempting to stay true to its core concepts. I hope that I didn't fuck it up too badly.
> 
> Love,  
> Zack x


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